all the things i might not be
by liarfaker
Summary: In a time of ancient gods, warlords, and kings, a land in turmoil cried out for a hero. Cursed with neverneding bloodlust by Hades, a god pitiless in heart, Caroline roams the Earth hunting his demons. It's her revenge and her redemption. But when Hades decides to put an end to her mission, Caroline's life takes an unexpected turn.


**Author's note**: This is a fic I started writing just for myself. My childhood wasn't really Cartoon Network - it was all about Greek mythology. I'm pretty sure my fantasies about the myths were my first fanfictions. And I decided to reconnect with my childhood heroes through a klaroline fic. Meet the gods, the warriors, the Amazons, and the demons. (And Charon, the optimistic and chatty ferryman of the dead.)

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all the things I might not be

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I

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"Please don't kill me." A woman cringes in terror, her back against a tree, her heart up in her throat. "Please."

But the fangs know no mercy. They show no restraint as they tear into her skin and revel in the muffled scream that dies in her chest. Her grip on the monster's arm weakens. Her husband's lifeless eyes stare at her from the ground. She's dying a meaningless death like many in her village did. Those bloodsuckers have been a plague for years, sneaking into people's homes and stealing life from them. Mutilating bodies. Terrorizing even the bravest.

They say it's the black heart's wrath.

She doesn't know what's first—the swoosh or the battle cry, but when the fangs are ripped away from her neck it's as painful as when they sank into it. Then the woman falls down, no longer held by the vampire. Bones crack. The monster grunts and roars, clawing at the attacker. With a kick to his stomach he's sent feet away over the bushes.

"Who do you think you are to interrupt me?" He growls jumping to his feet, leaves falling off his back. His bright blue eyes would be beautiful if they weren't so deadly. He's about to lunge forward, veins under his eyes spreading and fangs bared, when he sees the figure step out of the shadows. He remembers this face and this strength. It's the cursed girl roaming the Earth and hunting her own kind. His kind.

His lips twist into a malicious grin. "Ah. It's you again, you little ferret."

She inhales sharply, not tearing her eyes away from the vampire. It's always hate when she kills them, but now—now this is beyond hatred. It's unadulterated fury and thirst for revenge, a thirst more powerful than she has for blood. It forces her muscles to move even faster, it urges her to strike, her fangs protrude, and suddenly she's a monster just like him. A punch to his face feels too good to stop. He grabs her by her ankle and soon she feels every little stone under her spine.

"Missed me?" He clutches at her neck, choking her. Not that it would kill her—he just loves causing her pain. "Just give up. I'm stronger than you."

"But I'm angrier." Her forehead smashes into his nose and this brief moment is enough for her to spring back to her feet. He staggers back, seething, with blood trickling down towards his upper lip. She jumps and kicks him right above his left ear. A monster or a human, the Amazons told her, always aim at the head. Another front kick to his face ends up badly when he grabs her knee and sends her flying. She crashes head-first against the nearest tree and the world starts dancing in front of her. Before she manages to regain her balance, a pair of strong arms grabs her from behind and he has her immobilized. The vampire's breath against the skin of her neck makes her want to scream in rage.

"This game of cat and mouse between you two gets boring, you know." He rasps into her ear. "I'm really tempted to just kill you. Maybe Hades won't mind, after all."

Tears welling in her eyes are a rare thing, and she would rather have her eyes gouged out than let this monster see her cry. The image of the nightmare he so eagerly brought upon her and the Amazon village resurfaces right in front of her, as vivid as it once was.

Her jaw tightens, the veins under her eyes come out.

He's the sin and she's the fury.

Her heel crushes the bones in his foot, her elbow smashes into his jaw, and—

"Tell Hades I send my regards."

—with another crack of bones echoing through the woods the vampire falls to the ground, his neck broken.

Her eyes remain dark for a while until a long sequence of deep breaths soothes her mind back into peace.

In a faint light of the waning moon, just for a second, the woman sees her savior. Fair-haired, beautiful—and a living dead.

..

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_She remembers the night her heart stopped beating like it was yesterday:_

So young, women who anoint the body weep, he was so young.

The King of Thebes stares at the lifeless body of his son. That's what the boy is now—an empty shell.

Death of a loved one strikes with delay. First, the message. It's a slap in the face, but you still can't believe somebody dared raise a hand. Then, the sorrow, despair. It brings you to your knees. It makes you realize how much of your own life is now gone. It makes you question the will of the Gods. After you grieve and wonder _why_, after the answer never comes—then you find anger. People say faith works miracles, but that's not true. Anger works miracles. Anger drives people further than faith.

..

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Caroline cries and begs the guards to let her go. She hates herself for stooping so low, for pleading for mercy. She hates the King for the sacrifice. She hates everyone for not fighting for her. But how could they, really. Ordinary people serve the noble blood, the noble blood serves the Gods. The Gods—the Immortals, fickle and impulsive—make deals with those whom they either want gilded or ruined.

It's the highest honor, the priestess tells her, to die for your King's happiness. She cries because she doesn't want to die for anyone's happiness, anyone's but her own. How come Hades, the mighty God of the Underworld, agreed to trade Prince Tyler's life for hers? Her life has no value for the Gods, or so she used to think. This hope has kept her carefree through all her life—and led her to slaughter.

Torches light up the night sky. As the King's guards lead her to the temple, Caroline sees a sea of yellow decaying teeth. The crowd hasn't cheered that much since the king won the war. It's surprising how much the riff-raff and the rich have in common. Blood is the most desired of all entertainments, and the louder you scream in fear the better. They all want to see her writhe in agony of the impending death. They will feast their eyes on the bloody massacre that will take place on the altar. They will watch in perverse adoration the blood streaming freely down the valleys of her body. Gore, that's the opium of the masses.

Caroline's crowned with a diadem made of cypress leaves. It reminds her of the time her peers declared her the most beautiful girl in the valley. She wore her crown with such pride. How ironic, when you think about it now.

Every muscle in her body tenses when she sees the priestess, all dressed in black, come to her with a dagger so sharp it will probably cut through her body like through butter. When it comes to swords or knives—all blades in general—there's a certain air of finality about them. And let us not forget about the pain.

She still can hear people jubilate outside the temple. The festivities will last for six days straight. It's hard to be elated about your own death, though. Usually people don't know what will happen to them after death. There's still some room for hope in their hearts. Caroline harbors no illusions about the afterlife. The certainty of what is to come makes her flesh creep.

The woman's lips barely move. "Be grateful for tonight you'll meet your betrothed." From a village girl to a servant in the Underworld. Caroline squeezes her eyes as she tries to swallow back tears. So much for wise career choi—_Betrothed_? Wait, she wants to tell them, she's a far cry from being a good wife-material. She's got a lot of anti-conjugal qualities. Seriously, they should reconsider.

(Is it too late to confess she's not a virgin anymore?)

Prayers echo in the temple. The voices blend into a symphony of hissing and chanting. Incense smoke fills the room—Caroline's head gets dizzy from the heavy scent of musk and sandalwood. Suddenly her chest gets as heavy as one of the stone blocs in the wall of the sanctuary.

Maybe it's just a dream—

..

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A skiff sluggishly sails down the dark and swampy River Acheron, the river of pain. Charon, the ferryman of the dead, hums to himself a grim melody as he rows. His voice resounds in the underwater caves of the Land of the Dead.

"It's happening, then. No disguise this time." Charon muses. It's been three hundred days since Hades started to make regular visits to the world of the living. Always to the same place.

The river's churning. Hades stands with his arms crossed, his thoughts as turbid as the waters.

"She'll make a fine queen, I'm sure." The demon nods to himself. "A queen is what this realm needs, I've been sayin'."

They pass through a narrow tunnel. Water's dribbling down the stony walls. A trained ear could hear the distant whispers of the damned—the only music under the earth.

"If I were alive I would say my heart just skipped a beat." Charon quips. "A bride. That's _something_."

Charon, the optimistic and chatty ferryman of the dead. There's a reason why the deceased hate him.

..

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She runs to the light. Even though it's far away and fading, she runs. Those people torn her away from life's embrace like a weed that was to be rooted out, but she runs back. The bad thing is, pain is as palpable as it used to be among the living. She clutches at her chest where her heart used to beat not that long ago and winces in pain. Her legs are as strong as they were, though. She was the fastest one in the village. Hopefully this time they won't fail her either.

Caroline hears the jaws snap. And then they snap again. Something's coming after her, and it's growling like a rabid beast. She clenches her teeth and quickens the pace. She has no control over her body—fear does. Or anger. Anger brings people from the dead, after all. Maybe this is how they all do it.

Snap. Growl. Many growls. Three heads. Cerberus.

..

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Rage of the god makes the cave walls tremble. "Where is she?!"

Charon sniffs. "She's been here." The smell of lavender oils still hangs in the air, the proof that the sacrifice has run away. Little lamb has run away from the wolf.

There's a glimmer on the ground. Hades picks up a small silver thing, he flips it around, and brings it to the torchlight. A coin. The dead are buried with an obol in their mouth so they can pay Charon for getting them across the river. So it's true—she had the nerve to defy a god. She, a mere mortal destined to live a simple peasant life and die an unmerciful death of cold, consumption, or in childbirth. Any other woman graced with his attention would be floating on air. And yet that pretty little thing insulted the Lord of the Dead by turning her back on him. As if she actually could.

Remember what happened to Sisyphus.

..

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She's falling down a tunnel of cold light. Her robe is torn at the hems—the fabric remains in the lethal jaws of Cerberus. Had she hesitated before throwing herself into the void, the demon dog would have snapped her in two.

She tamed a beast once, or so she likes to tell herself. A beautiful grey wolf used to roam the woods near her village. His eyes—cold steel, and a very human look in them. She could swear he used to stare at her as if he understood. Sometimes she still feels a cold nose brush against one of her legs, and his fur—so soft under her fingers. She could barely believe the animal lived among bushes, dirt, and mud. Caroline called him _her wolf_. Not that she owned him, it was rather the other way round. But the time she spent with him in the woods, away from heartbreak life caused her, that was the best time in her life. It meant peace.

_Peace._

Her eyes shoot open. Greedily sucking the air in, Caroline sits up on the stone slab. Her skin is cold, her muscles rigid, and it feels so strange to be back in her own body. But her senses, oh that's something to think about. She's never realized those walls have such a lovely, sandy colour. Or that the chants echo so loud throughout the temple. The fire looks like a miracle now, so fiercely bright.

And everything smells death.

..

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She leaves a dozen dead bodies in her wake. She doesn't even understands how or why.

Her gums itch. When she accidentally bites herself on her lower lip, the blood tastes like the sweetest wine.

..

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The day Caroline almost dies in sunlight she finally understands what happened to her. What the journey to the Underworld and back did to her. She isn't alive, is she?

..

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The Pythia in Delphic oracle leaves Caroline with her hopes shattered.

In the mystic trance the sibyl's eyes glow bright green. Her shriveled fingers splay like hawk's claws. The room is slowly filled with smoke coming from the chasm in the ground. Musky odor of vapours pierces Caroline's nostrils. The priestess arches her back, twists her hands, her mouth agape, ecstasy taking over.

"You've been cursed by him who dwells under the earth, the pitiless in heart." The woman gives her a demented smile. "You didn't want to die so now you'll bring death upon others. How crafty of him."

Her hands tremble. "How do I fix it?"

"You don't."

Caroline holds her breath. So this is it. Hades won. Doesn't he always? She's cursed with darkness in her heart and bloodlust screaming inside her, and it will haunt her for eternity because she refused to die. How entertaining it must be for him.

Just when she's about to leave, the Pythia grabs her wrist. "Not so soon. Looks like some other gods favour you." Her giggle sends shivers down Caroline's spine. There's something frightening in the laugh of a mad woman.

A ring lands in Caroline's hand. A dark blue stone, the most intense shade Caroline's ever seen. Darken than the waters of Aegean Sea or her mother's angry eyes. This will let you walk in the sun, the priestess says. A gift from the goddess of the hunt.

"Why would she help me?"

Not everyone is fond of Hades, she hears. Well, she knows that much.

..

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If anyone can teach her how to survive in men's world, it's the Amazons.

Caroline joins them for three summers, following another divine word of advice. It puzzles Caroline to no end why the goddess chose to help her. But she's learned so far that when it comes to a god's will, there's no changing it without consequences.

Katherine the queen of the Amazons greets Caroline with reluctance.

We're letting a monster in, she says, and we're going to train her into a bigger monster.

But she lets her in nevertheless. It's the last day Caroline wears a robe.

..

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A warrior is like a sword, Katherine tells her. One has to be forged in the heat of battle.

They start with hand-to-hand combat. It's push and pull, Katherie says, just find two points of contact. The first is the pull—Caroline finds herself pulled forward by her arm. You have to knock the opponent off balance. Then it's the push—Katherine deals a blow to Caroline's forearm from above, and Caroline lands with her face in the dirt once again.

"It's all about the choice," Katherine grabs Caroline by her hand, twists it over, and slings the blonde over her arm. "It doesn't matter who you fight. Technique does."

She jumps and kicks and deliver punches. She aims for the head and the knees. Strike till you can lock the opponent, the queen says. If he's coming at you with a knife, aim for the wrist. Caroline's back hits the ground many times before her supernatural powers kick in. But when they do, Katherine ends up with a broken arm—luckily, because it could have been her neck.

..

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The other Amazons still keep their distance. She's the cuckoo in the nest.

If any of them comes back from a hunt covered in animal blood, nobody does as much as shrug. But when Caroline does so, all the uneasy glances are cast on her. They recognize her as a monster, a walking dead.

They might be right, though.

The bloodlust is hard to suppress. She has no anchor, no safe haven. Everybody in her life gave up on her just like _her wolf_ that stopped coming a moon before she was, well yes, executed.

When Katherine finds her brooding in the stables again, she explodes. "Stop seeing yourself as a victim. I'm sick of your pouts and sighs."

Sword fighting, on the other hand, brings Caroline joy. With her strength, the weapon is but a feather. When she spins it in her hand she feels invincible. And the clang of steel against steel, oh yes, that makes blood rush to her head. Her performance does look spectacular.

The very way she draws a sword makes Katherine more optimistic about Caroline's future. Maybe this is exactly what the lost girl needs. She turns into a different person while in duel. So focused, with her eyes narrowed at the opponent, she becomes an Amazon. Thanks to her agile hands and unnatural speed a simple series of short attacks evolves into a lethal move. She's incredibly good at it, Gods, she's on her way to be the best swordfighter Katherine has ever seen. And believe her, she's seen thousands.

..

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The Lord of the Dead paces around his chamber biting at his fist. He hasn't gotten much sleep lately, and contrary to common belief even a god of death likes to just close his eyes and drift off for a while. He could use some sleep, a shade of death, especially now when his mind rages and thunders driving him mad.

A puff of smoke behind his back announces his right-hand man's appeared. He likes to make an entrance, and Hades never held it against him. "You called?"

"I want you to take the others for a drink." A sinister smile creeps on the god's face. "To the Amazon village this time."

The man arches a questioning eyebrow at Hades, the Lord of the Underworld. "The Amazons? Really?" Of course, they've been invading random cities and villages, wreaking havoc and taking lives. But going after the daughters of Ares, the most feared warriors in the world?

Hades has his advisor's throat in a firm grip before any of them can even blink. "Since when, pray tell, you find violence and terror tedious, Ripper?"

"Ares won't like it. Not to mention your sister." The man chokes out.

"Ah, my little sister. She's done enough with her display of pity. A sunlight ring for that girl, that looks to me like backstabbing."

The ties are quite tense in his family. They have been since the grand battle against their father. The day they overthrew him, the omnipotent master of all dimensions, was the day their bond broke as well. His supremacy over the Underworld—where he's stuck in eternal darkness—was a result of a treaty he's never actually considered just.

"So it's still about that goddamn sacrifice?" Ripper sighs, shaking his head. Unbelievable how long Hades can hold a grudge against a peasant. "You could have killed her right after she fled. Why bother?"

Hades snorts. "And where would be fun in that?" Truth be told, fun isn't a thing Hades is accustomed to experience. The reason why he let her go was much more complicated, odd and puzzling even to the god himself, but none of his men need to know it. "Go and stir things up a bit. But don't kill the vampire girl."

Ripper rolls his eyes, but retreats nevertheless. At least he'll have the pleasure of getting to know the infamous peasant girl that made the Lord so restless. And if she managed to do this to a man that never turns a blind eye on such gambits, she must be much more than a pretty face.

..

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One evening, when a bonfire lights up their Amazon hamlet and half of the woods, when the girls dance around the flames raising battle cries and chanting, Katherine sits down on a trunk by Caroline's side.

"Two summers and you're already a superb fighter."

Instead of biting her lip and turning her eyes away like she used to, Caroline gives the queen a proud smile. "I guess I'm not that bad."

"Just remember," Katherine hands the blonde a cup of wine, "don't hesitate to fight dirty if you must."

"Do you teach this every Amazon in training?"

"Consider yourself special."

Amazon laughter is wild, their dance hypnotic. Caroline is fascinated by how their supple bodies bend but not break. Katherine joins them, stepping right into the center of the circle like a queen would. Over the past two summers Katherine has become many things to Caroline—a sister, a mother, a friend. Depending on the situation she gets a piece of advice, a whack on the head, or a hug. Hugs are scarce, though. There's always some sadness lingering in Katherine's eyes. Caroline doesn't know what or who she lost, but she's sure it was loss that forged Katherine into a warrior queen. Yet there are moments when she forgets and she laughs, just like now, when she's dancing around the fire to the drums and flutes. Caroline sits on the ground and smiles to herself—maybe she's finally found her place here, among wild women, among warriors.

For two years she's learned the names of every one of them, including their daughters and even their horses. Katherine rides Storm, a wild fading black horse that seem to soften only around his mistress. Caroline chose a dapple gray mare, Timo. As her name suggests, Timo is a horse of high self-esteem, regal in the way she carries herself. Many times she was the voice of reason when Caroline was about to lose it. This horse is the closest thing to a friend Caroline has except Katherine. But even though the others aren't so open towards Caroline, she considers them family of sorts. The redhead dancing on the queen's left, Sage, is their healer. An excellent fighter like every one of them, but her talents make her more needed after every major fight rather than in it. She's the one to tell Caroline to keep away from vervain. There's also little doe-eyed Elena, Katherine's younger sister. Other girls laugh and fight for fun, but Elena stays on the sideline, her eyes fixed on her hands. She's always like that, Caroline muses. Katherine doesn't spend much time with her baby sister. Actually, it's been bothering Caroline for some time now—the queen is the coldest self while around young Elena. And there's a beautiful blonde archer Alexia called by everyone just Lexi. She's pure fire, and one of the best teachers Caroline ever had. Brusque at times, Lexi would keep Caroline's mind cold and focused, just to provoke a string of perfectly aimed shots from her. Breathe–Lexi often said—even if your inner monster doesn't need to, your inner Caroline does.

Oh, how her inner Caroline misses dancing.

When Katherine waves at her inviting her into the circle, Caroline gives up. It's been too long since she denied herself a good laugh or even the tiniest moment of oblivion. She wants to dance like it's her birthday—every day can be your birthday when you're dead, after all. So she spins around while the singing gets louder. Everything—the fire, the dancers, the tambourine, the woods—becomes a blur. She inhales the smoke of the bonfire and she feels liberated. Once again she's Caroline, a village girl that runs freely through the woods with her wolf and—

Someone screams, a bloodcurdling scream that gets cut by a pair of fangs.

The music stops.

—the monsters. They are here.

..

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She doesn't know how many necks she breaks or how many heads fall off the vampire bodies. It's slaughter against slaughter. The whole tribe fights the vampires, swords against fangs. Some of the attackers get the taste of Lexi's archery skills, the others go blind when Sage throws a vervain dust right into their faces. But still, the Amazons—not as supernaturally fast nor as strong—are losing. Caroline's battle cries resound in the woods while she drives her sword through enemy's flesh. It's like a whole legion of demons came to a bloody feast. And she knows whom they consider the host.

"You're pretty, I must admit. He has good taste in women." She hears behind her back just after she beheads another soldier. With her fangs bared out of rage, Caroline turns around to face a tall, dark-haired vampire. His pale blue eyes seem to glow in the darkness.

"Who are you?" She growls, swinging her sword in her hand. The cacophony of the Amazon's cries echoes all around.

"A messenger." He steps further smirking at her weapon. "You won't kill me with this one, darling."

"Cocky much?" Her chest heaves, her face distorted with fury.

"Very much." Faster than a lightning he's right on top of her. With traces of blood coming from the corners of his mouth he looks more like madness than death. One look into his eyes and she knows there's nothing there. Void, black and unforgiving. His face hovers too close to hers when he grins, "Hades sends his regards."

She hears Katherine scream. Her lips part, her chin quivers in terror when she sees her queen on the ground, breathing heavily, blood gushing from her neck. Oh gods, Caroline pleads, no, let it not be fatal.

Anger is a powerful emotion. The bright-eyed monster doesn't need much convincing when in a blink of an eye he's down and screaming as a sword tears through his hip and binds him to the ground.

Caroline flashes to Katherine and holds her head, begging her not to give up. Dragging the queen's body to a tent, hearing the battle cries die down, Caroline holds back tears. Please, please, _please _be strong. Don't die on me.

As if on cue, the vampires stop and start to retreat. "Enough. We're out." Their leader says, his eyes fixed on Caroline.

"Come one, brother," Caroline's opponent groans, "the fun's just started!"

"I've said enough!"

The creatures back into the shadows, leaving the Amazons alive but heavily bleeding. Caroline hears footsteps approaching, and when she looks up from the ground, it's the vampire in charge. Tall and a killer just like the one who refers to him as _brother_, but with sad, brown eyes instead. She's never thought a monster can have sad eyes.

"If you feed her your blood she'll recover."

"Why would I trust you?" Caroline spits, holding Katherine in her arms protectively. "Go to hell!"

He stays unmoved by her outburst. Only killers can have this kind of cold composure.

"Vampire blood have healing powers. You feed her or she dies."

She grits her teeth, weighing her options. She can press at the wound and call for Sage, but can herbs make up for a blood loss? Her throat is almost torn apart. So a bite it is. Caroline brings her bleeding wrist to Katherine's mouth and closes her eyes as the queen drink, hoping for the best even though she's afraid of the worst. After a moment of stillness, when Caroline almost breaks down seeing no response coming from her friend, Caroline hears the queen cough.

When she looks around, the vampires—including the brooding one—are gone.

It's a long night for the whole tribe. Caroline helps them recover and then disappears into the forest.

She's gone for days, but nobody would dare ask about her.

..

.

You can't leave. Your training isn't complete, Katherine would warn her, but they both know it's just a lie.

My presence here poses a threat to all of you, Caroline reasons. Looking at the village—half of it damaged because of the last attack—they can't deny it.

As long as she walks the Earth, Hades will keep sending his demons out there. And as long as he does it, Caroline will be hunting them down.

..

.

_Years pass. Hell-bent on getting her revenge, Caroline sends thousands of them back to the Underworld._

_She can kill them, but cannot destroy them._

"Your favorite huntress sends her regards." The dark-haired vampire sounds more irritated than usual. "I wonder when you'll bring her here in Charon's _love_ boat."

Hades doesn't even look at his messenger as he's quietly flirting with the idea. "You sound almost worried, Damon."

"You're obsessed with her! How long till you finally lose it? Because I was not a fan of dancing corpses theatre, and believe me, this is where it's going."

(Dancing corpses theatre was an idea Stefan, Hades' right hand man, once had during a frightening episode of lunacy. Don't ask him about it, though. You might be forced to join the crew afterwards.)

"How is she?"

Damon throws his master an incredulous look. "How is she?! I tell you she's driving you mad and you ask me how your precious flower is these days?!"

The stern glare he receives, however, makes Damon take a few steps back. He sighs. "She's fine."

Hades nods to himself, deep in thought. Sometimes Damon thinks Hades' mind is wandering far away from the Underworld. It comes back for dinner, and then it's gone again.

"Tell Charon to prepare the boat. And send Stefan in here. I'm leaving him in charge for a few days."

"Great." The messenger's grin spreads from ear to ear as he rubs his hands, turning to leave. Finally the boss is getting the girl.

"Oh, and one more thing."

Before Damon can respond, his feet dangle above the marble floor of Hades' chamber. The god's nails dig into the vampire's neck, deep enough to draw blood. Then he throws Damon to the ground and licks the blood off his fingers. The messenger cringes.

"Never, _ever_, question my sanity."

..

.

_No one can hurry me down to Hades before my time, but if a man's hour is come, be he brave _

_or be he coward, there is no escape for him when he has once been born._

—Homer, The Iliad


End file.
